


In the Whispers

by EmmaVakarian_Theirin



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, F/M, non-descripted warden, oh and it's set between da:o and da2, oh and this is basically just angst. you've been warned, or however you say it; it's any warden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 06:22:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6943396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaVakarian_Theirin/pseuds/EmmaVakarian_Theirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s running as fast as he can, and he can’t remember why or where to. He doesn’t have a home to run to or somewhere to go. All he knows is he can’t stop, and can’t look back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Whispers

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr: http://emmavakarian-theirin.tumblr.com/post/126337625783/in-the-whispers

He’s running as fast as he can, and he can’t remember why or where to. He doesn’t have a home to run to or somewhere to go. All he knows is he can’t stop, and can’t look back.

Then Alistair hears her, and he slows down, makes him want to stop in his tracks. It’s his name in the gentlest of whispers, but it seems so far away. He aches to hear it again, but there’s something that wants to drag him away from it. He doesn’t know what it is, but he only wants to get closer to wherever the whisper came from.

Then the darkspawn whispers echo through his mind, but it’s tolerable, as long as he hears her.

He blinks, and he suddenly sees her far off in the distance. He murmurs her name as his feet start to move, but at a walking pace. She says his name again, a little louder this time, but he hears it in his ears like she’s right there in front of him. The whispers grow just as loud, but they don’t stop like hers do.

He blinks again, and now there’s templars in between them. But there not just standing there, and they’re not keeping them apart. No, they’re chasing her down. She’s a mage after all, and despite all the good she’s done with and without her magic for Ferelden, and in extension, Thedas, she’s still hunted down for her birthright. He would sacrifice himself for her, and he knew she would do the same, even if they’d both tell each other not to.

He always wanted to protect her, from the templars, anti-mages, anti-elven, darkspawn - everyone. She was perfect, she didn’t deserve such treatment. He wanted to be with her forever, no matter what.

She shouts his name this time, and he runs towards her. The whispers become louder than his thoughts, and he can barely hear himself pant. He shouts her name back as he sees the templars chase her. He’s getting closer, but slower than he should be, even while he’s running.

He shouldn’t, but he risks a glance behind him. There’s soldiers, but not just any soldiers - Loghains soldiers, and they’re chasing him down just for his birthright, too. He panics for a moment, but they’re not the reason for it. He just wants to get to her and protect her.

He snaps his head back to her, only to be intercepted by a large horde of darkspawn in front of him, but he doesn’t stop running. He unlatches his sword and shield and tries to plunge through them. He won’t stop to fight, not when he needs to get to her.  
  
He hears her call his name again, but it’s a scream. A terrified, frantic scream for him, and it’s the worst sound he can ever recall hearing. The whispers grow immensely loud on top of the darkspawn chatter. Now he uses all the force he can muster to plow through them. He looks through the small gaps in the horde to find her, and he sees something he didn’t see before - a cliff, and she’s right on the edge of it, templars pressing her to her demise.

He shouts her name, raw need empowering him. He will protect her, whatever the cost. With Loghains soldiers breathing down his neck, he propels his sword through the darkspawn, but they’re overwhelming him. Arms, swords, shields, staves, bows and arrows everywhere, he struggles to move, let alone fight back. He’s getting wounded, but he can’t feel pain, just grows weak with every wound, but he still fights.

Miraculously, he manages to manoeuvre his way through the horde, and now he can see her. He tries to run again, but his body grows limp from the assault, but he has no choice. He won’t let her die. He will protect her. With both darkspawn and soldiers chasing him, he focuses all attention on making it to her with out tripping or getting dragged back.

Arrows barely miss him as he draws near her, the darkspawns emissaries spells no longer affecting him due to the templar presence, only just within their cleansing radius. He has no doubt this is why she isn’t fighting back for her life. He. Will. Protect. Her.

He finally reaches them and pulls one of the templars away from her with what energy he had left, when she screams the first two syllables of his name, interrupted by a yelp. His eyes immediately snap to her, and she’s losing her balance. He squeezes between the other templars and extends out his hand to grab her, but he’s too late.

For a moment, the whispers stop, and he wishes they didn’t.

Her tear soaked eyes are fixated on his when she loses her balance and falls backwards, screaming, and then she’s gone. The whispers suddenly roar back into his mind and he doesn’t even hear himself scream as all the pain from his wounds suddenly surface with such force, he collapses to his knees. There’s an unbearable pain in his chest and part of him wants the horde of enemies behind him to just end it, and the other part wants him to get up and destroy every one of them in a rage of fury. But he can’t. He loses all his strength and falls flat on the ground.

Then there’s a giant deafening roar he’s all too familiar with. He looks up, only to see the archdemon suddenly emerge from below the cliff, flapping it’s wings to stay in place in front of him. The horde behind him doesn’t retreat, only closes in on him. He stares at the archdemon as it opens its mouth, fire gathering in its throat, preparing to set him aflame. He doesn’t bother move.

He spends his last thought thinking of her, before it finally spits a fireball at him.

* * *

 

His eyes snap open to darkness and he heaves heavily, followed by a pant of her name. His arm instinctively reaches out for her, needing to know that she’s there and that she’s safe.

It is then when he realises that he hasn’t had such a deep sleep in years, regardless of whether or not he wanted to sleep. Every night, before he would at least try to get some sleep, he would light a candle tall enough that would take about an hour to burn out. He would relight the candle for each time it went out; another hour of sleep lost. He could count the number of hours of sleep he got during a week with just the two of his hands, and it was slowly killing him.

Before he fell asleep, he had only just lit the candle, and the glow of the sunset peaked through the little cracks in the wood of the hut. Now it was pitch black, and there was no scent of the burnt out candle, meaning it had burnt out some time ago, so he had definitely been asleep for more than an hour or so.

He had started drinking. At first it was to lose his thoughts and numb the pain he would often find himself in with having the life of a Grey Warden, but it became a rather heavy addiction when it kept the nightmares at bay for a time. The blight was over, but it had all seemed to be getting worse. He avoided sleep to avoid the nightmares, and when he needed to sleep, he would drink.

It is then when he realises he’s getting those nightmares - the calling. The older you got and the deeper you slept, the worse they became. The pain in his chest hadn’t gone away, still fresh like someone had just stuck a dagger through it.

His hand spreads up and down along the mattress for her, and it is then when he remembers he still lives what was the most painful part of all the nightmares.

It is then when he finds his life too insufferable to go on, calling or no, and makes the decision right then and there to go down to the Deep Roads.

Because he _didn’t_ protect her.


End file.
